


Recovery

by coolbreezemage



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: F/M, Family Feels, Female My Unit | Byleth, Golden Deer, possible minor spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-10
Updated: 2019-09-10
Packaged: 2020-10-14 06:08:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,003
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20595977
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coolbreezemage/pseuds/coolbreezemage
Summary: Byleth faints during class. Manuela ends up fielding a very crowded infirmary.





	Recovery

Perhaps it hadn't been a good idea to teach a class right after her most recent episode of vertigo. But what else could Byleth do? She was their Professor, after all. She'd been feeling unsteady most of the morning, but there was no reason for the students to know that. They were fretting over her enough already. 

Most were studiously taking notes. Hilda, shameless as always, was busy doodling in her notebook. Ignatz didn’t sketch during classes anymore, not since the time he’d gotten so involved in it that he’d missed half the lesson and been so ashamed of himself he’d confessed it to her the next day. Raphael was staring out the window at some birds, and Marianne watched the fire anxiously as if she expected it to reach out and grab her at any moment. 

Claude was sitting at the front table, twirling his quill lazily in his fingers and pretending like he wasn't listening to every word. It wasn't a very convincing facade, especially when he insisted on answering most of her questions about ancient battle tactics.

“She seemed to be facing insurmountable odds,” he said of an Imperial general of two hundred years prior. “But she had her allies go behind the mountains and fly their banners so that the enemy general assumed she had a huge army waiting to march. Thinking that he was surrounded and outnumbered, the enemy general surrendered.”

Byleth nodded. “Correct. And after that, how did she manage the lords who… who…”

She lost the thread of the lesson to a sudden wave of confusion and unsteadiness that forced her to fight for balance. She kept her eyes open long enough to see Claude's expression flick from smug satisfaction to alarm and concern, and then the world fell away as Sothis shouted alarm into her ears. 

***

"Professor!"

Unexpectedly, Lorenz was the first on his feet, long legs carrying him halfway across the classroom before the others could scramble up from their seats. 

"Don't crowd her!" he ordered as he knelt by the Professor's side, fingers splayed over her head to check for wounds. 

Lysithea huffed. "And what exactly are _ you _doing?"

"Hush!" he hissed. "I am examining her. Kindly step back and be quiet."

Claude stood back and let him work. Friends or rivals or whatever they were supposed to be, they'd had each other's backs in enough battles now that he trusted Lorenz to know what he was doing. Not that he’d ever admit it and inflate the peacock’s ego even further. Several moments passed in tense silence until Lorenz pulled his hand away.

Claude crept forward. "Lorenz?"

“Breathing and pulse seem normal, and as far as I can tell, she didn’t injure herself in the fall…” Slightly puzzled silence followed. Lorenz scowled. “Why is everybody always surprised that I have medical training?”

“Because you’re a pretentious ass who cares about nothing except flirting with women?" Leonie suggested. 

"That is hardly-"

Claude raised a hand for silence. “Enough. This isn't the time for arguing." He dropped down beside Lorenz and rocked on his heels. "Lorenz, can we move her?"

"Yes, but be careful. She should have woken by now. I’m worried.”

“Well, we know Teach isn’t a normal woman,” Claude said. He was worried too, of course he was, but as long as he sounded confident, the others were less likely to panic. 

Well, most of them. Marianne stood off to the side of the classroom, wringing her hands and trying to look as small as possible. "Oh! This is terrible. There must be something I can do... Or I might just make things worse..."

Someday, Claude thought, he would learn why she hated herself so, and put a stop to it. For now, they had a Professor to worry about. 

Claude turned to her. "Marianne, you go ahead and tell Professor Manuela that we're coming.” She nodded and hurried off. “Raphael, can you carry her?”

Raphael stepped forward, smiling. “Sure thing! Can’t weigh much more than my sis. She really should eat more...” 

Lorenz moved aside and got to his feet as Raphael scooped up the Professor in his big arms. 

"Be careful, Raphael!" Ignatz exclaimed. "She's not a sack of grain."

Raphael adjusted his grip to better cushion her head and set off through the door with the rest of the Golden Deer trailing behind like ducklings after their mother. Though fawns would be a more fitting image, Claude thought. That would make the other Houses kittens and chicks, which was adorable, but unfortunately he didn't think Dimitri or Edelgard would be very fond of the image. Maybe he could dye a kitten blue and leave it in Dimitri’s room… Except Dimitri had no sense of humor and probably wouldn't even realize it was supposed to be a prank. And Edelgard would probably kill him if he stuffed her room full of chickens. It might be worth it, though, for the look on her face when she opened the door.

Hilda came up beside him. "Sooooo…. Does this mean there's no more class for the rest of the day?" she asked hopefully. 

Lysithea glared at her. "Do you ever think about anything besides being lazy?" 

"Hey, I just want to make sure!" 

***

Sothis?

_ Unghh… I felt that too. That was worse than last time! You are really no good at staying on your feet, are you? _

I'm sorry. 

_ Do not mind it. The little ones are worried. Go to them now, go! _

“I think she's waking up!” Raphael's booming voice, very close to her head. Someone was carrying her, and they were moving quickly through the monastery halls. 

“Teach! Welcome back.” Claude's voice, warm with relief for only a moment before fading back into his usual tones. “Hang in there, we're taking you to the infirmary. You fainted during class. Very rude of you. You didn't even get to hear my genius answer to the question of-”

“That's enough, Claude,” Lorenz scolded. “At least give her a moment to recover.”

Raphael turned. Seven pairs of footsteps echoed up the stairs to the monastery offices. 

“All of you?” Manuela scoffed as they crowded into the infirmary. “How many people does it take to carry one woman? Oh, whatever, just lay her down over here- Gently, please!”

She shooed the Deer out of her way and busied herself checking Byleth's temperature and examining her eyes. 

“Oh, Byleth, dear, don't you worry about a thing,” she crooned, clearly enjoying getting to play at the heroic nurse. Byleth allowed it. Her head was still fuzzy, and it was hard to focus on anything with Sothis still muttering in her ears. 

_ I heard that! _

Most of the Deer were eventually persuaded to leave for at least a little while when she promised to give them extra work if they insisted on sticking around. Claude stayed, sitting at the table and letting Manuela work around him. 

Jeralt appeared at the door only a few minutes later. Somebody must have gone to find him. 

“Hey. How are you doing, kiddo? Leonie told me you fainted again. I thought I told you to be careful. I wanted you to stay off your feet, but not like this…”

“There's no need to worry, Captain.” Manuela assured him. “She's getting the best of care. But I certainly wouldn't mind if you wanted to stay…”

“Nah, I can't stay long, Alois needs me for something.” Jeralt rolled his eyes. “Probably bought an ‘antique sword’ off a crooked seller again.”

“Oh, surely he can wait a while…”

Byleth turned over and tried to ignore the sounds of Manuela flirting with her father. Fortunately, Jeralt didn't let it get too far before he headed for the door. 

“I'll leave you to rest. Hopefully these brats will let you get some sleep.” He eyed Claude. “You take good care of her, boy.”

Claude sketched a dramatic bow. “Yes, sir!”

Jeralt snorted. “Heh. You watch out for this one. He's trouble.”

She sighed. “Oh, I know.”

“Hey!” Claude put his hand to his heart. “I’m hurt, Teach. I thought you would defend my honor.”

“Not a chance.”

“You'll need a lot more defense than that if you get her hurt, boy,” Jeralt threatened. For once in his life, Claude took it seriously. 

Satisfied, Jeralt left, after extracting a promise that Byleth would at least try to rest. Claude, for his part, promised to help. 

She caught the ghost of a grin on Claude's face. “You’re enjoying this," she accused. 

“Of course I am. It isn’t every day I get to scold you instead of the other way around.”

If he stopped with the ridiculous schemes and pranks, there would be less reason for scolding, but getting Claude to stop scheming would be like getting a cat to stop scratching at the door. 

"C'mon, Teach, indulge me? Please?" he begged, making skillful use of the puppy-dog eyes that had no doubt swayed the hearts of grizzled Almyran warriors. Oh yes, she'd figured that one out already. Now she was just waiting for him to tell her himself. 

She sighed. "Fine. But don't make a habit of it."

Claude grinned. "As long as you don't make a habit of toppling over during class. You really scared us."

It was as close to earnest as she was likely to get from him, so she took it. 

***

She had all of the Golden Deer in the room at one time or another, and no few of the other students as well, despite Manuela's attempts to shoo them out of her infirmary. Eventually Manuela gave up and sat in the corner with a glass of wine, occasionally offering comments on how sweet and young they all were. 

Claude spent much of the day sitting by the bed and telling wild stories. It was probably as much out of care as it was to have an excuse to get out of studying, but she allowed it. He was _ very _ good at telling stories. Lysithea shared some choice treats from her stash of sweets, and ended up eating most of them herself. As a mercenary, living on the road and cooking what she and her father could hunt, Byleth had never developed a taste for pastries or honey candy.

Word of her condition must have reached the Black Eagles; timid Bernadetta scurried in to offer her a book “in case you got bored!” before hurrying out again. Linhardt peeked a sleepy head in at one point, both to offer his services as a healer and to pester her about studying her unusual Crest. Maybe she would, someday, once he learned some manners. 

Of the Blue Lions, Sylvain had barely stepped inside before Manuela shoved him out again against his indignant protests. She did, however, let Dedue enter to offer Byleth flowers, a surprisingly tender gesture from a man his size. She added them to the growing pile of gifts on the bedside table. 

Of course, not all of the people who came by were visitors. There were a few other patients that day, none hurt severely enough to stay long. Caspar and Felix, arguing all the while over honor and tactics, entered sporting small cuts from training that were quickly treated with ointment and bandages. Dorothea came in with a minor burn on her arm from cooking and lingered long after it was treated, reminiscing with Manuela about their opera days in Enbarr. 

Dedue returned not long after Dorothea left, shepherding a rather displeased-sounding Prince Dimitri. 

“It's only a bruise. I've had worse,” Dimitri protested as they stepped in the door. 

His guardian remained unmoved. “Still. It should be tended to.”

Dimitri surveyed the room. His eyes narrowed at the sight of Claude. Neither spoke. 

“Professor.” He bowed to Byleth, that flash of rage buried again. “I had heard you had taken ill. I am glad to see you are recovering. Please, accept my apologies for not coming to see you sooner.”

There was something odd about him, she thought. Something unsure beneath the formality, and something dark. But he was Hanneman’s responsibility, not hers, and she already had her hands more than full dealing with the Golden Deer. 

“Professor Manuela,” Dedue said. “We have need of your services.”

Dimitri looked away. “Please. This is embarrassing.”

Dedue ignored him. “He took a blow to the shoulder during training this morning and he's been moving stiffly ever since. I would like you to examine him.”

Claude snorted. “From the way you were talking, I thought it was going to be your-”

"You will hold your tongue!"

“_Boys!_” Manuela yelled. All three fell silent. A smile spread across her face. “Ooh. Nice to see I can still command a room.” She looked Dimitri over, something slightly smug coming into her expression. “Right. Shirt off.”

“I-!” Dimitri glared at Claude. 

“Oh, _ I'm sorry, _Your Highness,” Claude drawled. “Would you like me to leave? Not fit to see your royal nipples?”

“Claude!” Byleth scolded. 

Of course Claude would delight in making Dimitri uncomfortable. And Dimitri would take pride in besting Edelgard, and Edelgard in showing up the other two. It did not bode well for the future of the continent if the heirs to the great powers could not even speak to one another without this childish bickering. 

Manuela eyed Claude. “You _ have _ been here for rather a long time,” she said, to the likely relief of her current patient. “Are you sure you don't have anything better to do?”

Claude stood. “Fine, fine, I'll go bother someone else for a while.” He wandered off, no doubt in search of more petty trouble that would make his enemies and allies alike underestimate his true talents.

Reluctantly, Dimitri undressed and stood utterly unmoving as Manuela poked at a dark bruise that probably looked a lot worse than it felt. Byleth and her father had suffered similar many, many times. Bandits were not known for fighting fair, and mercenaries could not afford to. 

“Hmm. You're lucky. It doesn't look like anything was damaged.”

He turned to Dedue. “I told you I was fine.”

“No, you were right to come to me. I'm glad _ somebody _ is watching out for you. Young men, I swear, you think you never need help from anyone.”

She railed about the faults of the male race a little longer and then sent him off with a poultice and a warning to be more careful. “And make sure you use it!” she called after him. “It doesn't do any good in the jar!” She muttered something about noblemen and rejecting perfectly good commoner medicines as she shuffled things around in a cabinet at the back of the room. 

Claude leaned through the doorway when they were gone and sauntered back to Byleth's bedside. "_These students_,” he said in a surprisingly good imitation of Manuela's voice, “ _ Sometimes I don't know why I even bother_.”

“You’re lucky I do,” Manuela said from behind him. He jumped. 

“Where did you come from?” he yelped. “You're worse than Petra in a tree.”

“I don't know why you're so surprised. This _ is _ my infirmary, after all.” She poured herself another glass of wine. “There's something strange about that boy,” she said, nodding towards the absent Dimitri. “Something not quite right. Though I suppose it's what comes of having your entire family brutally murdered…” She took a deep gulp from the glass. 

Byleth had learned about that only recently. Pieces of it, anyway. The Duscur incident was yet another part of history that her father had neglected to teach her. 

“It's too early in the night for such dark thoughts,” Manuela continued. She studied the various items piled on the table. “It is good to see how your students care for you.”

It was. Byleth half-expected them to fight over who got to bring her dinner, but evidently they had worked it out among themselves because instead of letting her be being bombarded with a dozen different dishes, Raphael and Ignatz showed up together with an extra-large platter of spiced meat skewers and gravy-soaked bread. They enjoyed it together, and if Raphael took the lion’s share of the meat, it didn’t matter, because there was more than enough to go around. 

Manuela insisted on keeping Byleth overnight, which spoiled her plans of some moonlight fishing with Alois and Flayn, but there was nothing she could do about that. She only hoped Alois would not take the initiative to have a basket of fish sent to the infirmary. Manuela would not be pleased about that. 

***

She was sharing breakfast with Lorenz the next morning when Leonie sidled into the room. “Hey, Lorenz...”

He glanced up. “Hm? What is it?”

She sighed. “Look, I'm sorry about what I said yesterday. You were trying to help and it wasn't fair of me to attack you for it.” Byleth didn’t need to ask what she was apologizing for. Claude had already related the whole story of what had happened after her collapse. Every word. He’d even done the voices. 

Lorenz smiled - an honest one, not the one he did while assessing potential wives. “I shall forgive it. We were all rather shaken.” He gestured to the table. “You may join us for tea, if you wish.”

“Oh. Uh, I think I will.” She pulled up a chair. Lorenz poured another cup of tea as Leonie dug into a currant scone with very unladylike bites. “This is good! Thanks!” 

Fortunately, Lorenz refrained from commenting on her manners. 

Byleth was proud of them both. Those small moments of connection, of vulnerability, those could mean everything for understanding and trusting each other on the battlefield. If only it didn't have to be… She'd grown attached to her students, far more than she ever had to any of Jeralt’s fellow mercenaries. The thought of any of them dying under her command threatened to tear her silent heart from her chest. 

_ My, my, you have grown fond of them. And they of you. _

There was no point in arguing, so Byleth didn't. 

  



End file.
